my journey through the depression jungle

what’s it all say?

when I got the call that my brother passed away, i served up a huge plate of resentment. you see, he got cancer about 2-1/2 years into my cycle of depression. I saw people rearranging their lives to make sure he had transportation to his chemo 8 hours away, i saw people organizing his travel and care and i saw people taking time to visit him either in the hospital or at home.

roar stood in stark contrast to the family care, if you want to call it that, i received. being liberal, I got a grand total of maybe 12 phones calls a year from any and all members of my family. a portion of those calls dealt with planning up coming visits. the, “how’s it going?”, intimate calls seldom, if ever, occurred.

i do recognize the danger of the comparison game. so, let’s tackle this again without the comparison. what’s it all say?

it’s a part of life that some friendships fade. the frequent calls or get togethers become more infrequent. that’s replaced by the spoken, “we should get together.” followed by the thought, “we should get together.” followed by thinking of your once good friend every once in a while. each step the separation grows and, let’s face it, the genuine care you feel for your friend decreases. if the care still existed,their or your phone would be ringing. who knows why the drift happened. does it really matter? what was once something becomes stale and less important.

so, what’s it all say when family members drift? again, something happened, perhaps no one can remember what, or perhaps someone does. but if the fear of what’s to happen gets in the way of the connect, the care that was hopefully once there, surely decreases. if the care still existed it would beat back the fear and make the call, anyway.

sure, my finger isn’t broken. nothing stops me from picking up the phone and making a call. or does it?

if you have a friend in traction, you don’t expect them to come over to your house, watch the game, or just catch up. if you want to see them, you have to make the effort.

i’ve been in mental traction for far too long now. everyday, i look at the phone, the 500 pound gorilla, with the best intentions to make a call, but the mental traction holds me back.

so, let’s get to the all to so sad conclusion. as if i want to.

what’s it all say?

my family doesn’t care. okay, maybe that’s too much of a blanket statement; let’s pull back a cover or two. my family doesn’t care enough to fight back their own fear and/or pain, pick up the phone, and check in on me, see how i’m doing or see if they can do anything for me. i have little importance in their live.

that makes me sad. it feels strong, a 10 out of 10. it’s the color of black, like standing in a closet at night, unable to see the tip of your nose. it firmly, purses my lips together, a sign of sadness for me. it makes me fear for a serious back slide. to be truthful, i wish i didn’t have to feel this way.

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About bipolarsojourner

i have struggled with episodic depression for years. i then received a diagnosis of being bipolar, only to find out i didn’t. ends up my psychiatrist really meant to say that multiple bouts of depression are often best treated like bipolar. i had already started this blog as bipolar sojourner and didn't want to switch it over. i am documenting my journeys through my depression jungle.

this is me-i’m the one in the middle

i have struggled with episodic depression for years. i then received a diagnosis of being bipolar, only to find out i didn’t. ends up my psychiatrist really meant to say that multiple bouts of depression are often best treated like bipolar. i had already started this blog as bipolar sojourner and didn't want to switch it over. i am documenting my journeys through my depression jungle.